


Sweet Dreams

by TrickyTricky



Series: Sweet Dreams are Made of These (Who are You to Disagree) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: But each is fully enthusiastic of their own accord, Holding down during sex, In the sense that characters are not aware that respective consent issues exist, Just pleasure and increasingly kinky explorations as time goes by, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, No Dark Side shenanigans here, Shameless Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyTricky/pseuds/TrickyTricky
Summary: Obi-Wan finds himself experiencing strange dream-states where the troopers he works alongside seem determined to have their way with him. Why is his sub-conscious suddenly so focused on conjuring scenarios where these figments of his mind take control and chase pleasure for themselves, wringing it out of him at the same time?A fantasy is not reality... can there be any harm in giving in to this ecstasy, in letting himself experience the pleasure his dreams seem so determined to force upon him?
Relationships: CC-5576-39 | Gregor/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Clone Trooper Character(s)
Series: Sweet Dreams are Made of These (Who are You to Disagree) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728370
Comments: 14
Kudos: 216





	Sweet Dreams

The bunker was dimly lit, with several long, narrow passageways stretching out in branching paths away from the cavernous room in which he stood. He knew the enemy was nearby and all around him; he could hear the clanking of battledroids approaching from all sides, though none were yet in sight. He was alone and didn’t know how he’d come to be so, but he knew that it was _wrong_. He should be with his men, they should be standing together.

He had to find them. 

“Cody?” His voice echoed strangely through the deserted corridors, intertwining with the menacing sound of hundreds of metal feet marching on duracrete that was growing louder by the second. He looked down at his wrist, only to find it bare. His communicator was missing. 

“Waxer? Boil? If anyone can hear me, please respond.”

Obi-Wan held his breath for an endless moment, completely focused on trying to detect any hint of a reply, and finally heard a whisper of familiar voices to his left. He turned in that direction without hesitation and dashed down the passageway, a formless, nameless terror nipping at his heels as he ran. The further he went the more difficult the way became, the walls distorting and closing in around him until he had to turn his shoulders to the side to squeeze through, piles of rubble and destroyed droids littering the ground that he had to clamber over. 

His breath was becoming short as he pushed himself harder, the sound of droids drawing closer behind him as they continued to gain ground. But he knew he was getting nearer to where he needed to be as well. The susurration of desperately sought voices seemed to be all around him now. He could almost pick out individual words. He was close, _so close_ to where he would find safety, to where his men would be expecting him to provide them with his protection in turn. 

Obi-Wan’s place was by their side, fighting alongside them. That was where he was meant to be. If he let it in, if he yielded to its flow, allowing the Force to move him as it would, he knew that he would find his way.

He stopped his desperate scramble, closed his eyes and centered himself, reaching out with one hand, fingers splayed wide as he opened himself up to the Force.

_There._

His eyes shot open and he slashed his arm through the air, sweeping aside a pile of debris that had been covering a small maintenance access hatch near the floor. He sheared through the security bolts with two quick swipes of his lightsaber, securing it back on his belt as he crouched down and shimmied head first into the tight crawl-space. He paused just long enough to focus, and with one deft pull of the Force, slid the cover back into place behind him. 

Once enclosed, it was dark, and immediately quieter, the menacing sounds of the battledroids fading away into the distance as he crept forward using elbows and knees to propel himself. He was going in the right direction, he knew it, but the very air seemed to thicken as he pushed forward. It pressed heavily against him, slowing his progress.

Everything blurred around him for a disorienting second, and when his eyes cleared, he could see a light in front of him. He scrambled forward, eager now, and it seemed like only a moment had passed before he found himself at the end of the tunnel, another hatch barring his way.

He centered himself and flicked his wrist, a concentrated burst of the Force sending the hatch in front of him shooting out into the unknown space before him. A deft application of it to aid his own movement allowed him to tumble out smoothly just behind it, landing in a balanced crouch with lightsaber in hand, warily surveying his surroundings. The edges of the room wavered for a moment, liminal and unsettling, before _snapping_ back into focus with an almost audible _pop_. 

Obi-Wan was still processing the sensation, trying to shake off the strangeness of it, even as he took in the even more bizarre sight before him. He found himself in a medium-sized sitting room, comfortable and well-furnished for entertaining, at the center of which was a table. At which table were seated five clone troopers he easily recognized, all holding playing cards, with drinks and gambling chips scattered on the surface in front of them, all staring back at him with mildly bemused expressions on their faces. A wordless, modern jizz tune was playing softly in the background.

He found himself easing from his battle-ready stance before consciously deciding to, the relaxed presence of the troopers nearby singing _safe_ to his instincts despite his recent narrowly-escaped pursuit. 

_A dream,_ he realized abruptly, the knowledge washing over him with a sudden surety, bringing with it an overwhelming sense of relief. _Of course, just a dream._

The persistent sense of not-right in the world around him, the unfamiliar terror driving him to flee from the battledroids rather than confront them, followed by this seamless merge into a bizarre encounter in this impossible place… it could only be a dream. 

He straightened, sweeping his cloak aside to clip his lightsaber to his belt with a practiced motion, and caught a sharp movement out of the corner of his eye as the dream-version of Cody that his mind had apparently conjured threw his hand of cards face-down onto the table.

“No,” Cody snapped. “ _Absolutely_ not. I’m here to play a nice, relaxing round of sabacc over a few drinks, not run off on whatever idiotic adventure one of you hot-heads has got it into your brains to drum up.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the statement, understanding the words well enough, but feeling like he was missing some context. Then again, he supposed that was the case in dreams often enough. Regardless of feeling a bit out of step, he certainly liked this setting a good deal better than the one he’d just come from. He was in no hurry to jolt himself out of it. 

“You’ll get no argument from me on that score,” Obi-Wan said, agreeing with a smile and noting the way all five of the men looked over at him with a bit of surprise on their faces. “A quiet evening spent in friendly company would be a rare treat these days. Perhaps you’d consider dealing me in for the next round?”

“Well, that was a quick shift,” Cody said, a thread of disgruntled suspicion in his voice as he glared around the table then narrowed his eyes over in Obi-Wan’s direction. “Someone’s feeling a tad indecisive tonight, are they?”

Assuming it was a rhetorical question, and moreover didn’t appear to be addressed to him, Obi-Wan merely shrugged and padded closer, appreciating the way the luxuriantly thick carpet cushioned his steps as he moved across the room. This really did seem to be a lovely little haven his mind had conjured for him to pass his remaining sleeping hours within. What a refreshing change of pace.

He looked at each of the men in turn; Cody and Rex, two men he worked with closely and trusted daily with his life, Fives and Echo, the two ARC troopers who sometimes augmented their ranks when missions needed additional support, and Gregor, a trooper he had unfortunately not yet had the opportunity to get to know as well as he would like. He knew from their brief introduction that he was a highly skilled commando, and that Cody had every faith in his ability to effectively lead the elite Foxtrot Group that deployed alongside the 212th when they needed the heavier fire-power. It was Gregor, the man he knew least among all those his mind had gathered together for some obscure reason, who set his drink down to welcome Obi-Wan and beckon him over to his side.

“Afraid we’re already at max capacity for players, general,” Gregor said with a friendly smirk. “But I’ve got a seat over here for you if you want one; you can be my lucky charm.”

Obi-Wan looked down at where the trooper was tapping his knee suggestively, a shamelessly bold glint of challenge in his eyes as he stared straight at Obi-Wan, no possible way to misinterpret his meaning. He couldn’t help blinking a little in surprise at the boldness of the invitation. 

He also couldn’t help the electric thrill of arousal that jolted down his spine and pooled in his belly at the blatantly dominant nature of it. _Oh. It was to be one of **those** dreams then..._

His eyes darted quickly around the table, but there was no guidance to be found there. Cody was staring down at his cards, frowning and to all appearances unhappy with the hand he’d been dealt. Rex’s attention was focused on the table, shuffling through his small stack of chips to get a count. Fives and Echo were leaning back in their chairs with the hands that held their cards carefully tipped away from one another, their heads tilted close together as they whispered conspiratorially. 

No one seemed surprised or disturbed in the least by the invitation Gregor had issued. 

When he looked back over, all he could see on Gregor’s face was mild expectation and a casual assumption of his obedience that was intoxicating in its simplicity. He looked down at where Gregor’s hand was still absent-mindedly thumping against his own thigh, and gave in abruptly.

Yes, well, and why fight it? He was so tired of fighting. There was no need for it here.

As he moved to gingerly seat himself in Gregor’s lap, he almost expected mockery to break out, or some other form of rejection, but Gregor just shifted a little to resettle himself more comfortably as Obi-Wan rested more and more of his weight on the trooper’s lap. They were both grown men, and this could quickly become awkward if they let it, but Gregor just casually slung the arm that held his cards around Obi-Wan’s waist to steady him, pulling him back firmly to lean against his chest as he did.

“That’s better,” Gregor said, his voice practically dripping with smug satisfaction. “Now just relax for a bit while I finish mopping the floor with these losers.”

Fives rolled his eyes dramatically and scoffed at the boast, tossing a handful of chips into the pot to begin the next round of betting. “Yeah, bet you’ve got nothing, old man. ‘Lucky charm’, my ass.”

“No,” Gregor said with a laugh, “lucky charm _his_ ass.” Obi-Wan jumped and couldn’t hold back a small yelp from slipping past his lips as Gregor’s free hand darted under his thigh and pinched the curve of his ass. _Hard_.

The only reaction this garnered was a round of laughter from Echo and Rex, a subtle curve of a smile from Cody and another loud scoff from Fives as he glared across the table, apparently deciding to take the words as a challenge. Obi-wan stiffened and thought about protesting for a moment, thought about getting up and walking away, but…

Where would he go? _Why_ would he go? There was absolutely nothing stopping him from just relaxing back and enjoying the uncomplicated pleasure of this faux-company among men he liked and didn’t get nearly as much opportunity to socialize with as he would prefer. And, it wasn’t as though though he could say with complete honesty that he hadn’t _noticed_ how appealing the men he served alongside were; this would hardly be the first dream he’d experienced containing the men he fought alongside that had wandered into the realm of the erotic. He wasn’t normally lucid during them, but what difference did that truly make, in the end? 

He couldn’t even deny that such thoughts had crossed his waking mind from time to time, though he’d always done his best to dismiss them when they had. The troopers were undoubtedly handsome men; so many of them shone with a gorgeous inner light of determination and selflessness. They were strong and kind, clever and fierce, and had taken his breath away on more occasions than he would ever be willing to admit. 

But there were too many barriers, too many potential complications and ethical pitfalls to ever seriously consider pursuing such a liaison. But this… here… well, there truly was no reason why he shouldn’t indulge, now was there?

For several minutes the men around the table settled back into their game, exchanging few words, but clearly enjoying the simple pleasure of one another’s company. Everyone held a drink in their hands that seemed to refresh itself whenever it began to get low, and at one point Echo stood up and wandered over to the sideboard to refill a plate from a banquet that had been laid out. 

Obi-Wan had fully relaxed back against Gregor’s broad chest by then, his eyes half-closed as he let the details of the game float by, just soaking in the good-natured comradery all around him. He barely noticed the slight tugging sensation against his belt at first, but jolted a bit in surprise when he felt the release of pressure of its constriction against his waist, when he heard the muffled thump as it fell free to land on the thick carpet below. Before he could find any words, Gregor’s free hand was already moving again, deftly untucking the loose corner of his obi wrap and pulling the first layer of fabric away over his stomach. 

“Up,” Gregor whispered against his ear, the command soft but uncompromising, the subtle tickle of his breath enough to cause a shiver to course across every inch of Obi-Wan’s skin. He inhaled a long, shaky breath, but complied, bracing his feet more firmly on the floor and wordlessly lifting his hips a few inches, feeling almost as though he was in a trance.

Gregor used his free hand to slowly unwind the cloth wrapped around him, his cards still held in his other, until finally it was free, and then it, too, was released to drop carelessly to the floor at their feet. When he settled back, rather than the somewhat stiff perch he had maintained before, Gregor spread his own legs a little more, resting one hand low on Obi-Wan’s stomach to urge him to settle back more deeply into the cradle of Gregor’s hips. When he moved as he was directed, he was somehow both surprised and not at all to feel his ass pressed back far enough to meet the hard nudge of Gregor’s cock that was waiting for him. Gregor’s hand released him for the few moments he needed to reach back and adjust his own cock until it was positioned to rest comfortably in the space between Obi-Wan’s cheeks, then that hand returned to his stomach, pressing him back again to settle even more snugly than before.

His outer tunic came loose with a few quick tugs against the simple knots holding them together, and his inner the same way, and then Gregor’s clever fingers were sliding under the panels. He lifted first one side of his tunics away from Obi-Wan’s chest, then the other, until they hung loose from his sides, still caught up around his arms. He could have moved to shake them off, but something held him still, his hands still resting braced on the arms of the chair to either side of them. If Gregor wanted him to move, then he would likely indicate such. 

Obi-Wan was excruciatingly aware of his state of undress as he watched the other men around the table with hazy, half-lidded eyes. There was no mistaking the fact that he was, for all practical purposes, being put on display for them, and a complicated knot of hot, twisting desire formed in his belly at the thought of it. There was something primally satisfying about the attention the dream-figures were all paying to him now. They all tried to hide it, some more successfully than others, but Fives and Echo, Rex, and even Cody, all kept stealing glances his way, their eyes hot and full of lust. Their attention was drawn even further from the cards they held when Gregor’s hand began roaming purposely across Obi-Wan’s chest, broad strokes across his pectorals, his stomach, reaching up to stroke his fingers delicately across Obi-Wan’s throat. 

When Gregor’s fingers slid down to circle and then teasingly pluck at one of Obi-Wan’s nipples, he honestly wasn’t expecting much to come of it. They weren’t normally a very sensitive erogenous zone for him and he’d never gotten much out of such focused attention from his partners before. But this time when he was touched, a bolt of pleasure shot through him, almost unnaturally strong. He couldn’t help bucking a little at the sensation, gasping aloud as the teasing caress transformed into a tight pinch without warning. Without thinking about it, he rocked forward, unconsciously flinching away from the unexpectedly powerful surge of arousal that shot through him. Before he could get anywhere, Gregor’s hand was splayed across his chest, hauling him back firmly into place. He shivered, but didn’t resist when that hand slid up and gently nudged against the bottom of his chin, urging Obi-Wan to tilt his head until it rested back against Gregor’s shoulder, exposing his throat and leaving him staring wordlessly at the ceiling.

Gregor must have set his cards down on the table, because the next thing Obi-Wan felt was the assertive touch of two hands, both working in tandem to release the fastenings of his trousers. An insistent nudge urged him to lift up again, and he did, two sets of thumbs hooking into the waistband of his trousers and underclothes at the same time, sliding everything off to puddle loosely around his bare ankles. 

_But my boots_ , he thought hazily to himself. _Shouldn’t they have gotten tangled in—?_

A dream, he remembered again. This was just a dream. No need for inconveniences like being forced to awkwardly reach down to remove boots here. 

Perhaps he should let go and listen to the wisdom of his own subconscious mind. After all, if he couldn’t relax and allow events to unfold as they may within the safety of his own dreams, when could he? Now that he’d given himself permission to consider it, he was surprised to realize how _very_ tempting he found the notion. To let go of all propriety and his constant need for vigilance and just offer himself up in whatever form would bring pleasure or solace to another.

It would be inappropriate to do what he was considering in the real world. But here... if it remained entirely within the realm of his own mind, here there would be nothing wrong with it. He could let himself go and just experience whatever was done to him without guilt or fear of consequence. 

And _oh_ he wanted that so badly...

One of Gregor’s hands was pressed low against his naked belly, urging him to lift his hips a little more, to tilt himself up and back. He could feel movement under and behind him as Gregor gripped his own cock, moving himself into position...

“Wait,” Obi-Wan said, faintly at first, then with a slightly stronger voice as he pulled himself forward and away, coming up abruptly against the edge of the table but gaining a few inches of separation. He tried to focus, to bring some form of lucid control over the course this dream was taking. He needed to consider the deeper implications of all of this before he could allow it to proceed. Obi-Wan felt everything seemed to slow for a moment, the room around him stretching and blurring. “Wait, just...not so fast, I’m not—”

“Sir,” Gregor interrupted, cutting him off mid-word, his voice strained and impatient as the room around him snapped forcefully back into focus, “you know we all love the sound of your voice, but for once will you just _shut up_?”

Gregor shifted suddenly behind him, breaking his concentration and throwing him off-balance as Obi-Wan was shoved without warning face-down onto the table in front of him, strong fingers gripping the back of his neck firmly. His arms flailed wildly for a moment, seeking purchase on the table, chips and cards flying askew. It was only a moment before he felt his wrists grabbed firmly on each side and pinned down. He couldn’t move his head, but he could roll his eyes back and forth, and saw that it was Rex holding his arm down on one side, grinning eagerly at him, while Cody held him still on the other, his focus clearly fixed back on what Gregor was doing behind him. 

A jolt of arousal shuddered up his spine as all his control of the situation was stripped away. 

_Ah_ , he thought faintly somewhere in the corner of this mind that was still trying to logically process what was happening even as his body thrummed with an intense surge of pleasure. _This is my fantasy then?_

He was tense and shaking, caught completely off-guard by the turn this dream had taken. But even as he tugged weakly against the hands gripping him, a part of him knew immediately that the last thing he wanted was to actually escape.

“Just want you to quiet down for now,” Gregor crooned at him affectionately, shifting forward behind him, his hips pressing Obi-Wan firmly down against the edge of the table, his hard cock nudging in between his spread legs. “Just be good little fuck-toy for us so we can relax and have a nice evening, all right?”

 _A toy_ , he agreed hazily in his own mind, shaking with the intensity of pleasure that the thought brought. _Just a toy for their pleasure. Don’t need to be anything else._

He felt the thick head of Gregor’s cock notch up against his hole, slick and hot and _perfect_ , he could practically _taste_ it in the back of his throat, he wanted it so badly, _**please**_...

He felt Gregor tense behind him, could feel him press forward, begin to press _in_ , felt his body just beginning to give way, to open up and _take_ him-

Obi-Wan’s eyes shot open and met the familiar darkness of his quarters onboard the Negotiator, his breath coming in heavy pants, his sleep-clothes drenched in sweat. He realized he had jolted himself awake, both his hands clenched hard against the thin mattress beneath him in an effort to try to brace himself against the disorienting sensation of falling that had woken him. 

He closed his eyes and breathed out a long unsteady exhale.

_Just a dream._

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended to eventually be an open-ended work... it was inspired by many delightful conversations with the lovely folks over in the SubObi server. Hopefully more hands come to play and end up having lots of fun in this sandbox. :)


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